Ding-Chapter1

*Ding*

James startled awake from his daydreams and flipped the switch from divert to forward on the steam line. With a sigh he leaned his head back against the wall behind him. Mopping the sweat from his brow, he settled in for another fifteen minutes of staring at the wall. As he did, he re-immersed himself into his own imagination. Inevitably, to the sound of another *Ding*, he needed to check pressure levels and adjust the boiler settings again.

In reality, James was a student studying pre-law at a small state college in small town Idaho. He wasn’t very passionate about the field, but he believed in the future he could achieve with his dad and brother's connections. Connections that may take him far enough that he wouldn't have to work too hard to get his own practice started. That, or he would give into his dad’s dreams and join the family practice. Law School isn’t easy, but James hoped the few years of hard work would allow him to ride the wave of his life out in wealth, comfort, and minimal effort. And yet, despite his general apathy towards work, James found himself working this part-time job during the winter break running the boiler room below the campus steam plant. To him, it seemed immeasurably easier than returning to his family's home in California for the break.

Law School, controlling parents, and general apathy towards life was only James’ exterior. It was his own disappointing reality. But this was not who he was in his dreams. In his own fantasies, James was a great warrior. Saving damsels, growing in strength and renown, and always defeating horrid and powerful monsters. He built kingdoms, led armies, and always saved the day.

Leaning against the old concrete wall of the steamy basement, James was completely detached from the world around him. In his own world, he found himself standing on the edge of a high mountain cliff fighting hordes of wolf-faced vaguely bat-like monstrosities with great leathery wings and sharp fangs.

Illuminated only by the soft light of a cloudless sky, he fought with his trusty iron staff bashing the monstrous creatures from the sky. Every swing broke wings and crushed bones as he fought for his very life. Slowly he made headway against the horde, accumulating many deep scrapes and several bites as he fought on against incredible odds. An onlooker might have said he looked heroic, but he knew he was just doing what had to be done. As his last swing crushed through the skull of the final wolf-bat he let out a resounding cry of victory and pain, holding his heavy staff above his blood-stained head. He knelt down, half in exhaustion, half to inspect the corpse of this creature to search for clues as to its origin. Just as he began to focus…

*Ding*

James almost jumped in fright as he snapped back to reality. Sighing as his heart returned to rhythm, he flipped the handful of switches that would keep the machines happy for the next half hour. He then began his climb out of the basement to go take a short lunch in the blessedly cool break room before having to hurry back for the next steam cycle.

His coworkers were kind, but they didn't seem to notice him. They all worked together and he worked alone. So while they conversed and laughed about jokes he didn't understand and shared stories about supervisors he didn’t know, James ate his sandwich in silence lost in a world of his own making.

"James! Yoohoo! You with us man?"

Coming out of his imaginings, James saw his coworker Sam waving cheerfully at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Just kinda lost in thought. What's up?"

Sam tried to put on a sagely air, which was awfully difficult with his constantly cheerful round face, and said almost seriously. "Not all who wander are lost, but you my friend have never been found." Grinning at his own soft rib he continued. "So, hey I know you don't really know her, but Sarah is doing a bonfire thing this weekend and I'm taking the liberty of inviting you. It’s Saturday night and we'll have drinks and s'mores. You down?"

Mulling it over, he answered back. "I'll think about it." After checking the clock above the door, James quickly began packing up his lunch. "Hey, I gotta run. I need to go flip a switch or I think the whole campus might explode."

"Yeah, sure thing man." Sam replied with a slightly sad look on his face. "Just let me know before Friday. I think you have my number, right?"

"Yeah, all our numbers are posted in the breakroom." James said as he hastily finished the last half of his orange.

"Ok, well we'd like to see you there. It's gonna be a blast. Bring your own chair. Sarah said she's only got three so..." By the time Sam finished James was waving over his shoulder as he quickly headed back down to the boiler.

*Ding*

Steam cycle done. Please open all drain valves.

James looked at the message that showed up on the old-fashioned monitor built into the side of the boiler. Messages like this haunted his dreams. *Ding* “Do this.” *Ding* “Do that.” It was nearly enough to make him ill. He thought ruefully on it as he began to open the numerous drain valves preparing for the end of his shift.

Thinking about it, he really didn't hate his job. It was well suited for him and his penchant for daydreaming. It wasn't hard work, not that he was opposed to hard work, he just didn't really know how to work hard at something that he wasn't passionate about. And it paid well enough for a student job. Shrugging, he finished the steam cycle as he considered the question he often found himself wondering. What was his character's name?

Walking up the stairs he considered the possibilities. Often, he wanted to name him something close to his own name but different enough like Jerry, or something regal and domineering like Rathalam. Or something harsh and brutish like Gunther. He continued to ponder this as he changed from his work uniform, clocked out, and began wandering down the college mall towards where the city bus would pick him up.

Deeply lost in thought he heard something that was so out of place he nearly fell as he stumbled over his feet.

*Ding*

Looking around he searched for the source of the noise. He was, for a moment, worried he had daydreamed the whole process of leaving work and was still leaning on the wall in front of the boiler. Finally, his eyes alighted on something that made him question more than just his own reality. Floating in front of him was what appeared to be a very aged letter written on some form of thin leather. It was folded in half and sealed with a coarse string and a glob of unmarked wax. Next to it floating in the air was a slowly blinking message in green letters reading;

New message. Accept? [Y/N]